


Aureate

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Boyfriends bantering, Cute revolutionary boyfriends cuddling and kissing and sleeping next to each other, Enjolras taking a break from the revolution to get some rest, M/M, Stealing the bed of a prostitute and not caring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1265146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Gently planting kisses in the soft hollow where Enjolras’ earlobe and jawbone met, Grantaire breathed out, breath hot and raising pebbles of skin down Enjolras’ arms, “Dearest Apollo, sweetest of dreams. You shall awaken to my aubade.”<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aureate

**Author's Note:**

> Aubade - A love song which is sung at dawn.  
> Sabaism - The worship of stars.  
> Aureate- Pertaining to the fancy or flowery words used by poets.
> 
> My first posted-not written-Enjoltaire fic. I love these two and their interactions.

The cacophony caused nightly by the din of the patrons of the Musain had already quieted down, and Enjolras had never been more glad than to crawl into one of the empty beds on the second floor. He would have to pay in the morning for using up valuable space that a fancy lady could have been putting to work, but frankly, the blond man was tired.

For once putting aside the revolution and such tasks pertaining to it, he closed his eyes, shucking out of his jacket and shoes before collapsing back onto the goose-feather down and sighing. Enjolras was nearly asleep by the time Grantaire found him, stepping into the dim room with a crooked grin plastered on his face.

He toed out of his boots and set his bottle of wine on the nightstand, taking a moment to ensure it wouldn’t slide off the ramshackle boards that were barely nailed together. He encircled Enjolras’ waist with one arm, nestling into the soft curls behind his ear.

They both smelled like smoke and spirits and most of all- the hope of a future worth fighting for. Gently planting kisses in the soft hollow where Enjolras’ earlobe and jawbone met, Grantaire breathed out, breath hot and raising pebbles of skin down Enjolras’ arms, “Dearest Apollo, sweetest of dreams. You shall awaken to my aubade.” 

Enjolras’ lips quirked up into a smile and he closed his eyes again, settling back against his dark-haired lover. “Ah, merci, Grantaire. I see your sabaism never falters.” 

“Never.” Grantaire whispered fervently, squeezing around his waist tightly and rubbing his nose against his neck.

Enjolras turned in his arms, and imprinted the brightening grin of his to Grantaire’s lips.


End file.
